


Between Piety and Desire

by matthewbrown



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Brownham, Churches & Cathedrals, M/M, New Orleans, UST, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1819396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matthewbrown/pseuds/matthewbrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is a young police cadet in New Orleans, and Matthew Brown is a local boy who finds himself in trouble more often than not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time they met, Matthew was being thrown out of a bar on Bourbon Street for being underage. Officer Graham, still a naïve cadet, made him promise not to do it again and let him go, not realizing it wasn’t his first time - just his first time at _that_ bar.

The second time, Will was off duty when he ran into Matthew. This time the bartender had been lax - Matthew _was_ pretty tall for his age, after all - and an argument had broken out. Will hadn't been there when the fight started, but it definitely ended with Matthew flat on his back, with a black eye and a bruised ego.

There was a spark of recognition in the young man's eyes as Graham helped him to his feet. "Gonna kick me out again, Officer?"

Will just chuckled. "Get out of here. We both know you're underage, even if the bartender doesn't," he said as quietly as he could while still being heard above the din. "Do your parents know where you are?"

Matthew took a deep breath. "Don't really have any."

"Where do you live? I'm taking you home. You've had too much, anyway, even if you weren't underage."

Wincing at the pain, Matthew leaned on the off-duty cadet. "Bywater."

Graham nodded, putting an arm around Matthew to steady him. "Think you can make it walking back to Toulouse and Chartres with me?" He counted the streets in his mind, still learning them - Dumaine, Saint Ann, Orleans, Saint Peter, Toulouse. "About five or six blocks."

"I know how far it is." Matthew groaned. "Ugh, it hurts to think. You're not from around here, are you?"

"Born here, but haven't lived here for most of my life, no." Will kept a tight grip on Matthew's waist, walking him southwest down Bourbon Street. "What's your name, anyway, kid?"

"Matthew, 'n I'm not a kid," he slurred. "You?"

"Will. Will Graham."

They walked near-silently to the parking garage on Toulouse, Graham tucking the young man in the backseat so he could lie down. Will paid the garage fee, then headed out toward the Bywater. Matthew groaned, struggling to sit up.

"No, lay down. You'll get sick."

Matthew groaned again in protest. "Directions. What street are we on?"

"Burgundy, almost to Esplanade."

"Okay. Switch over to Dauphine. Burgundy switches directions at Esplanade - that's Bur _gun_ dy, not  _Bur_ gundy, by the way. Left on Desire. St. Claude is too far." He sighed and laid back down.

Will was quiet for a moment, staring up the street.

"Left on Desire. Sure thing."

They pulled up slowly to a run-down shotgun on Desire Street, one lonely porchlight the only light in the whole block.

"Are you sure you want me to leave you here? Doesn't look like anybody's home."

Matthew rubbed his face, trying to sober himself up enough to get out of the car, let alone walk to the door. "Nobody _is_ home. This's where I stay, though. Street light's been out for a week."

Will ran a hand through his short brown curls. "Let me walk you to the door, at least. You can barely stand up."

Matthew sighed. "Sure, whatever."

Graham put the car in park, too nervous to leave the keys in the ignition, quickly walking around to the other side of the car, opening Matthew's door for him. "Come on. It's a much shorter walk than the last one." He held his hand out to help the young man up.

Matthew stood with difficulty, allowing the off-duty officer to hold him up again, and they walked up the crooked path, longer than the path in front of most shotgun stoops. Fumbling with his keys, Matthew managed to get the door open and turn on the light in the front room. "See? My house." He made a grand gesture, but didn't move to let Will inside.

"Don't do it again, all right? I don't want to have to bring you in to the station."

"No guarantees, Officer." The boy smiled a crooked smile. "Thanks for driving me home." He tilted his head, considering Will for a moment, before leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.

Graham swallowed hard, confused by the gesture, then met the boy's smile with one of his own. "No... uh, problem. Just don't make a habit of it."

Matthew backed into his house, closing the door and locking it. Will furrowed his brow as he walked back to the car, glancing once back at the house to see the drunk young man taking off his shirt and tossing it on the threadbare couch. Graham shook his head, as if to clear it of thought, settled into his car, and drove off into the New Orleans night.


	2. Chapter 2

The third time they met, it was Sunday morning, Will was sipping chicory café au lait and Matthew was practically covered in powdered sugar.

As Matthew got up to leave, the officer, seated closest to the door, smiled and held up a napkin.

"I, uh, I think you may have missed a spot," Will said, amused.

Matthew took the napkin from him, clearly embarrassed, even though it was hard to escape Café du Monde without at least a little powdered sugar. He cleared his throat, wiping his mouth and brushing off his shirt. "Thanks. Will Graham, right?"

"And you're Matthew... Matthew Not-a-Kid, as I recall."

"Well, uh, 'm not," Matthew said, slightly embarrassed, himself. " _Brown_ , though. Matthew Brown."

"So you do have a last name."

Matthew gave the off-duty officer a playful shove, snorting derisively. "Curious, Officer Graham? Were you thinking about me?"

Will laughed, shaking his head - _he hadn't been, so why was he now blushing?_   The younger man gave him a lopsided grin.

"Where are you going, covered in powdered sugar like that, anyway?" asked Will.

"Church, it starts at eleven. They don't care how I dress. They're used to tourists, though, and tourists sometimes show up in stranger things." Matthew brushed sugar off his shorts anyhow, suddenly self-conscious. "You been inside the cathedral yet?"

Will shook his head. He'd barely had enough time to notice the outside of the cathedral, let alone have time to see the inside while it was open. "No, I've been busy. You know. Work."

"You must not be Catholic," Matthew grinned. "Come with me to Mass, then. Worth it to see the architecture, anyway, or so I'm told. I've been going to the Cathedral my whole life, so I'm used to it."

Considering it for a moment, Will realized he really had no excuse not to... no good excuse, at least. "My, uh, my dad was. Took me a few times, but never really bothered on my own." Finishing the last of his café au lait, he stood up, pushing in his chair like a gentleman. "All right. I don't have to go on duty until this evening, so... why not?" He smiled, though he wasn't sure whether it was to encourage Matthew or to try to combat the faint anxiety that pooled in his stomach.

"Come on, then." Matthew led Will up Saint Ann street, past the gate to Jackson Square, past the tarot readers and the restaurants and the Presbytère and into the wide, tall doors of the Cathedral-Basilica of Saint Louis, King of France. The entryway was already full of tourists and locals alike.

"Wait here, though. Something I have to do."

Will nodded, looking up at the statue in front of him, a figure of benevolent Mother Mary with penitent sinners in the flames at her feet. Matthew ducked into the Cathedral's gift shop, returning with two small white tealight candles. He held them out proudly.

"For prayers," he said, by way of explanation. "You can light one if you want. There are places for them here..." he indicated the candleholders below the statue of Mary, "...or on the other side, in front of Saint Thérèse."

Will took a deep breath and shook his head. "Doesn't feel right to me. You go ahead. I'll wait."

Matthew nodded slowly. "Be right back, then." He disappeared to the other half of the entryway, presumably to light candles to Saint Thérèse.

His gaze returning to the statue in front of him, Will examined it more closely. Mary, crowned in gold, dressed in her characteristic shade of blue, held the infant Jesus in her left arm, his small hands holding out a crown of flowers. Two androgynous figures at her feet - the left, shackled, pleading, in flames; the right, arms crossed in thanks, freed from their shackles, pale clouds swirling around. Hell, or more likely Purgatory, and Heaven. Sinners and saints.

Mary's serene face smiled down at them both.

Will's thoughts were interrupted by Matthew touching him lightly on the shoulder. His hands were empty, he was smiling, and his cheeks were a little pink.

"Let's find a seat," he said. "Don't forget to cross yourself. Holy water's by the door."

Will offered him a tiny smile and nodded. Matthew led the way, dipping his fingers in the holy water font, crossing himself and waiting. Will dipped his own fingers, timidly, and performed the motions he hadn't done since his youth. The two passed through the doorway, finding a seat on the left side, not too close to the front.

"You can sit on the aisle, in case you don't want to stay," whispered Matthew.

The congregation and visiting tourists filed in around them, forcing Matthew to scoot a little closer to Will at the end of their pew.

Mass began, and Will found his mind wandering again, looking all around him at the art of the Cathedral. About half an hour passed before he realized that Matthew's hand was gently placed over his on the seat between them.

_A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew._

He looked at the younger man's face questioningly, but Matthew's eyes were on the priest. _Nearly holding hands._

Will could think of nothing else for the rest of the Mass.


End file.
